


the perfect bake

by dozmuffinxc



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Baking, Birthday Cake, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Post-Episode: e067-069 Story and Song Parts 1-3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dozmuffinxc/pseuds/dozmuffinxc
Summary: "Today was Barry’s birthday, his first since they had been reunited, and Lup was determined to make it a memorable one."In which Lup prepares for Barry's birthday party and a baking life-hack goes comically wrong.





	the perfect bake

Lup slipped out of bed, the dim light of a hazy dawn just beginning to creep through the bedroom window. Barry grumbled, rolling over on the mattress behind her and she froze halfway to the door, biting her bottom lip and grimacing, but he didn’t wake up. Instead, he muttered something about “negative equilibrium in the hen house,” and Lup’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

Barry was precious when he was asleep. Not needing much rest herself, Lup spent most nights curled up against him and listening to the sound of his quiet, stuttering snores, watching with her dark vision as his face shifted almost imperceptibly in the middle of a dream. She only slipped out of bed when he was deep in REM and she could creep off to jump a portal to Taako’s place where he and the cats were waiting with a cocktail and the latest tale of mayhem from his magic school. 

This morning, she tracked a silent course to the kitchen, sliding into a pair of slippers to muffle her footsteps and easing the bedroom door shut with practiced ease. Her apron hung on the back of the kitchen door, and she felt her body relax as it settled around her shoulders and she tugged the sash snug around her waist. There was a beautiful normalcy to the rote of baking, even when she was trying some new recipe, and as she gathered up the bowls, spoons, and measuring cups she needed, there was an extra spring in her step that she recognized from watching Taako go through the same motions in his own kitchen.

Today was Barry’s birthday, his first since they had been reunited, and Lup was determined to make it a memorable one. She had sent invitations out weeks ago, and everyone had RSVPed — even Davenport, off on one of his nautical expeditions, whom no one had seen in months, would be there. She had planned everything down to the smallest detail, uncharacteristically nervous despite the knowledge that Barry would love whatever she threw together, and the only thing left to do was to bake the birthday cake.

To her perpetual chagrin, Barry did not have an adventurous palate. The last time she and Taako had whipped up their famous dark chocolate and chili pepper mousse, he had spent the rest of the night in the bathroom nursing a large glass of milk while hunched over the toilet. For this occasion, she had planned a simple strawberry cake with rose buttercream that she knew he loved. With all the ingredients laid out on the counter before her, Lup cracked her knuckles and set to work.

As she assembled the dry ingredients, her hand reached for the eggs and she cursed under her breath. The recipe called for room temperature egg whites, and _damn_ but she was not patient. Glaring at the chilled carton and calculating times in her head, Lup huffed and grabbed two eggs in each hand. She had never been patient, and Taako always griped at her for using transmutation to speed up the mundane steps while baking even though he was just as guilty as she was. Shrugging, Lup tucked the eggs one at a time down the front of her shirt, nestling them into her bra and shuddering as the cool shells pressed against the skin of her chest.

Falling into the rhythm of the bake, Lup began to hum under her breath and, gradually, to sing quietly, a wordless tune that wove itself into the rise and fall of her spatula as she blended the batter in strong, sweeping, concentric pulses. Her hips swayed slowly side to side, and she used the motion to regulate the speed as she folded the mixture into smooth, pale pleats.

A prickle on the back of her neck made her pause, spoon frozen mid-stir. Turning on her heels, she spun around and found Barry leaning against the doorframe, eyes bleary, a smile stretched wide across his face.

“Babe,” she exclaimed, shifting her body so that her back hid most of ingredients on the counter. “Why are you up so early?”

“I missed you,” Barry said, his voice still thick with sleep. Lup loved the way his hair stuck up in three different directions in the morning.

“Aww, Barold,” she beamed, “that’s so embarrassing.”

Barry blushed, tugging on the sash of the denim-print dressing gown that Taako had given him last Candlenights.

“It smells great,” he said, padding across the kitchen in his slippers. He paused in front of her, brushing a smear of flour from her cheek. Lup leaned into the thrill of pleasure that that his calloused fingertips sent down her spine.

“I haven’t even put it in the oven yet,” she purred, “and it’s _supposed_ to be a surprise.”

“You’re so good to me,” Barry said, pressing his forehead to hers. His breath was stale and there was sleep crusted in the corners of his eyes, but Lup was hard-pressed to think of anything more handsome or more charming.

“Yeah,” Lup replied, her fingers sneaking up his neck and winding in the overgrown hair that wasn’t quite a mullet but that reminded her of the young magic user who had joined the Starblaster crew and proceeded to turn her world completely and irrevocably upside down. “How good?”

In lieu of an answer, Barry pressed a soft kiss against her lips, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. As he pulled her into a snug embrace, Lup stretched up on her toes and looped her arms around his neck, chuckling as the stubble on his unshaved cheek tickled her forehead.

“You are an awful distraction,” she said, leaning in for another kiss, “but I can’t say I mi---”

An audible _crack_ cut her off mid-sentence, and the unpleasant feeling of four eggs voiding their slimy contents down the ridges of her rib cage made her freeze in place.

Barry drew back to inspect the damage, eyes wide behind the crooked frames of his glasses.

“Oh, Lup,” he sputtered, “I-- I’m so sorry! Wh--why were those eggs _there_? Oh my goodness, can I… can I help… Lup?”

Lup stood as still as a statue, her eyes locked on Barry with an inscrutable look as he frantically reached for a dish towel. When he stepped close to offer it to her, she pushed his hand away silently.

“I’m so, so sorry, Lup,” Barry said, unnerved into rambling by her unblinking stare. “I didn’t know there were -- eggs? -- in your… I’m sorry, _why_ did you have eggs down your bra? Is that a normal chef thing? I don’t -- I’ll buy you more eggs! I’ll get dressed and head over to the market so you can finish your cake and I’ll do the laundry when I get back, all right?”

Lup’s mouth twitched, and Barry had only a moment to discern the beginnings of a sneaking smile before her hand dipped down the front of her shirt and removed a big glob of congealed egg white. Before he could protest, she promptly smeared the lot down the length of Barry’s gaping face.

Barry sputtered wordlessly as Lup collapsed against the kitchen counter, cackling madly and clutching a stitch in her side.

“Babe,” she gasped mid-giggle, “your _face_!” 

Barry felt the beginnings of a laugh deep in his belly as Lup reached up to remove his glasses and wipe them clean on the edge of her apron. When she settled them gently back into place, he pressed a slimy, eggy kiss into her forehead and chuckled as she squealed.

“Come on,” Lup said, shaking her head. “Looks like we both need to get cleaned up.”

“But what about the cake?” Barry asked.

“It will keep,” she replied. “I, on the other hand, will not. There is egg in _all_ the wrong places, and if I don’t get a bath right now, heads will roll.”

As she sauntered across the kitchen towards the hall and the bathroom beyond, Lup discarded first her apron and then her shirt, disrobing with an ease that sent a flush through Barry’s whole body. When she realized he wasn’t following her, Lup turned back and grinned, leaning in the door frame with a come-hither look only slightly marred by the viscous goop clinging to her chest.

“Come on, Barold,” she said. “Looks like you’ll be getting one of your birthday presents early.”

Barry needed no further encouragement.

**Author's Note:**

> For interested parties, this is the recipe that I imagined Lup using for Barry's birthday cake: https://aclassictwist.com/strawberry-naked-cake/
> 
> And yes, this fic was inspired by my own baking shenanigans. Like Lup, I never remember to set out the eggs before I start baking, and sometimes when I'm feeling particularly impatient, I'll use my body heat to speed up the process of getting them to room temperature. Lucky for me (or not, as it happens), I don't have an adorable Barold Bluejeans to make that life hack go comically wrong.


End file.
